Stepping Back Ahead
by Graecus Paganus
Summary: A spell causes Derek to revert to his sixteen year old self, and the only way to reverse it is to face up to everything in his life so far and accept it./Baby Derek / /Sterek/ /Baby Sterek/ /Post S3 AU/
1. Chapter 1

Stepping Back Ahead

Author's Note: I haven't actually seen S4 yet, so we'll call this a S3 AU fic, and no Kate.

Pairing: Sterek

oo0oo

Chapter 1

Derek hated that Stiles had brought him here. Of course the hyper teen would pick somewhere like this.

The sound of the merry-go-round, of roller coasters and screaming kids.

"Come on Derek!" Stiles said excitedly, attempting to pull him by the hand toward the Seer's tent.

"Don't be ridiculous Stiles!" he snapped.

Derek had been spending more time with the boy since the Nogitsune ordeal. Something in their friendship had shifted yet again. Derek didn't mind being around Stiles- maybe part of him even liked it.

Still, if he had known the hyper teen were dragging him to the carnival...

"What's wrong Sourwolf? Scared of fortune tellers?"

He attempted to give Stiles his most intimidating death glare.

"Its superstitious nonsense!"

"Now Derek," Stiles began with a grin. "Some people think werewolves are superstition."

Derek scowled, refusing to admit Stiles had a point. Stiles now found the older man's moods almost endearing, suppressing an urge to snicker.

"Fine then, I'll go by myself. Be a pal and wait for me."

Stiles turned his back on the wolf, certain that he'd be feeling it if Derek's glare could literally bore a hole into his back.

He was hit with the overpowering stink of perfume when he stepped into the tent.

An older woman with gray and white hair was seated at a small table.

"Come in young man," she invited, gesturing to a vacant chair across from her.

Stiles sat, finding those soul-searching gray eyes of hers somewhat unnerving.

"What an interesting name," she spoke suddenly.

"Sorry?" Stiles asked nervously.

"Your name of course," she answered with a thin smile. "A spirit has just told it to me, but that isn't why you're here."

"N-no ma'am," Stiles managed through sudden nervousness.

His name- he hadn't used it or heard it since...

"Peace child," the woman spoke with some gentleness. "That isn't why you're here. Is someone with you?"

"Yeah he's outside. Doesn't much care for fortune tellers."

"I see," she said simply. "He's a lot like you. Both incredibly strong, both have suffered loss... "

She paused and drew in a breath as though collecting herself.

"His name is Derek."

Stiles gawked in surprise, but she merely smiled.

"Yes Genim, my power is real. I'm no fake like so many swindlers."

"You called me Genim," Stiles whispered, eyes wide with emotion. "My name... "

"Yes," she said. "An unusual name. Take good care of it. Now what is this I sense about you toward Derek?"

A sick feeling had settled into his stomach. Should he stand up and run?

"Don't run," she told him. "Peace. All spoken here is between us. What you desire will be yours Genim, but only through a series of choices. He too will make choices. I know what you desire, what you hide so well from even your closest friend."

The knot in Stiles's stomach twisted painfully.

"Do not hide yourself Stiles. Embrace yourself. All you desire can be yours. That is all I can say at present."

Stiles was mostly relieved, and never more eager to get out of a fortune teller's tent. He stood, digging for his wallet.

"You owe me nothing," she said, raising a hand to still him. "I will help you get what you desire. May the powers go with you."

Stiles had never been happier to be back in the open air. Derek was waiting with folded arms and his trademark scowl.

"Well?" he demanded.

"You were right Derek: waste of time. I'm starved!"

They went to find the food tent, wanting something more substantial than a hot dog, but all they got was a mystery casserole. It wasn't bad.

"So Derek," Stiles said, mouth full of casserole. "Did I ever tell you my real name?"

"You've never told anyone," Derek said like Stiles was stupid to ask.

"Well I want to. Its Genim."

Derek looked at him with a skeptical eyebrow.

"No seriously," Stiles insisted, flailing his arms out obnoxiously.

Derek snorted and covered his mouth.

"Hey!" Stiles protested. "I didn't tell you so I could get laughed at."

"Not that," Derek shook his head. "That stupid thing you do with your arms."

Stiles scowled.

"Oh yeah? See if I ever go anywhere with you again."

"Uh huh," Derek said skeptically. "I've heard that one about three times this week."

"Well this time I mean it," Stiles huffed, folding his arms.

"You don't mean it," Derek said with the smallest hint of an amused smile.

"Do too," Stiles replied, pouting his lip slightly. "Now let's go ride the ferris wheel."

"No thanks. Time for me to go home."

"But we haven't ridden any rides yet," Stiles pointed out.

Derek tried to ignore the hint of hurt in the boy's expression, but he really hated carnivals.

"See ya," he waved over his shoulder.

He really hoped Stiles didn't follow him. The boy was making him feel smothered.

He felt a sudden rush at the gray eyes that suddenly locked with his own. The Seer was standing outside her tent practically glaring at him.

He willed himself to move, but something kept him in place. She stepped toward him, and suddenly he felt something like fear.

"I know you doubt my powers Derek Hale," she addressed him coldly. "You will doubt no more. You run and hide from those who care about you. You seek help as a last resort. You wear the flesh of a man, but inside you're a scared child."

Derek felt a sudden rush of both anger and acknowledgement of her words.

"Be outwardly what you are inwardly Derek Hale! Let everyone see the boy you are!"

Derek howled with pain as boiling heat seemed to scorch his skin. He covered his face with his hands, stumbling blindly.

"Now everyone will see the sixteen year old boy you won't allow to die!"

Derek turned and ran from her. He hated the sound of her voice. He peered through his fingers, seeing the tubs for bobbing apples ahead, running for them.

He dunked his head into the cold, fresh liquid, and it cooled him immediately.

He raised his head, skin no longer burning, but what he saw reflected in the water shocked him- his sixteen year old self was looking back.

Sixteen year old Derek's mouth parted in shock and awe. He raised shaking hands to his now smoother face, feeling it as though he doubted it were real.

What had that old woman done to him?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Derek flew across the fairgrounds, having lost none of his speed for being younger.

He caught sight of the old woman, fully intending to rip her throat out, but her cold eyes seemed to paralyze him again.

"What more do you want from me, Derek Hale? You now wear the form you truly are."

"Tell me how to reverse it," he ordered.

"You must learn to accept things as they are," she replied simply. "You hide from the truth like a child does."

"I can't," Derek whispered. "You'll never understand."

"Life is easy for none, Derek Hale. Some have lost much more than you. You have more than you realize."

"Am I to remain this way forever?"

"Not forever," she assured him. "Until you acknowledge who you really are. Maybe this is who you are."

Derek considered her words thoughtfully. When he looked up from the ground she was gone. The tent was gone.

"Wasn't there a tent here?" a familiar voice asked from behind him.

He turned and Stiles gasped in surprise.

"D-Derek?"

The boy before him was his own age. Stiles doubted his own instincts, but those eyes didn't lie.

"Yes Stiles," he nodded. "Its really me."

"How?"

Stiles was in awe. The Derek he knew was built like a vault and brooding. This Derek was slightly smaller than he was. Still moody, but the eyes were... nicer.

"Oh-my-god," Stiles spoke, and this was the first time he seemed truly speechless.

"What are you gawking at Genim?" Derek asked with a slight smirk.

"Shhh!" Stiles hissed in a whisper. "Don't use my name all the time!"

Teen Derek grinned like an idiot, and Stiles thought it looked more genuine on the younger face.

"Shouldn't Scott know about this?"

"Why, what could Scott do?"

"Dude I don't know!" Stiles exclaimed obnoxiously. "He is the alpha!"

Derek knew Stiles had a point. Besides, he really had no idea where to start. The old woman had been pretty cryptic. Maybe the pack could help.

"Let's go see Scott," Derek agreed. "Even if he doesn't know something, Ethan might."

Stiles was thoughtful at that. What might Ethan know? Ethan and Aiden had known about Scott's alpha predicament, so maybe.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Author's Note**: Alrighty, so the fic gets a totally rewritten third chapter because I've decided to take it in a new direction. I hope you like it, but the good news is the fic is continuing once more. Hopefully no more writer's block.

oo=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=oo

Derek folded his arms even more tightly, if that were possible, and that trademark scowl was back.

'Okay', Stiles thought- so teenage Derek could be a Sourwolf just as well.

They'd been in Scott's living room for what must have been thirty minutes now, but it was obvious to all of them their young, and very inexperienced alpha didn't have the slightest idea how to reverse spells.

Scott had spent the last ten minutes or so pacing and biting at his lip in that nervous way that meant he was at a loss.

"Where's Ethan?" the young alpha sighed aloud.

"What good will he be?" Derek grumbled.

"He was with Deucalion remember?" Scott pointed out. "Maybe he knows something about spell reversal."

"Seems to me Deaton would be the one to ask about that," Stiles blurted suddenly.

Realization dawned on all their faces.

"Oh my god!" Scott exclaimed. "How could we have been so dumb?"

"Gee I dunno," Derek retorted sarcastically. "Seems to come naturally to you and Prince Geek here."

"Now wait a minute!" Stiles protested.

"Oh save it," Derek snapped, cutting him off. "Your dramatics never help anybody."

Stiles huffed and placed his hands on his hips, sizing Derek up.

"Excuse me, but as I recall _Derek_\- I've saved your life quite a few times with my dramatics."

"Yes _Stiles_, and you've also gotten us all in trouble quite a few times too. In fact, I recall very recently a trip to the carnival that... "

Derek's theatrics were cut short by knocking. Stiles rushed to the door, compelled as ever by his hyperactivity, and opened it to a very amused Ethan.

"Heard you guys arguing at the end of the block," he explained with a chuckle. "You and Derek arguing again?"

"Oh stuff it," Stiles griped as Ethan shuffled past him, pausing in surprise.

"Oh my," was all Ethan could say, wide eyes sweeping down the much younger Derek in front of him. "Its really true. You don't look half bad."

Derek shot Ethan a scathing look that would have killed him ten times if looks were deadly.

"Relax," Ethan grinned.

Derek forced his eyes shut and inhaled deep, trying to think of anything to get his temper under control.

"Let's cut to it," he grumbled, sounding at least less hostile. "Do you know how to reverse spells?"

"Not one like this," Ethan said with an apologetic grimace. "Sorry bro. If what Scott told me on the phone is true, only the old woman can reverse it."

"She won't," Derek sighed in resignation. "Now she's vanished. Damn it!"

Stiles eyed him suddenly, gaze slightly worried and apologetic. Did the boy blame himself?

"Hey its okay," Derek told him, voice less aggressive. "I didn't mean it Stiles. Its not your fault."

"All the same," Stiles sighed. "I should try to do something to reverse it myself, perhaps."

Those whiskey eyes were thoughtful now, maybe even intent, and he was eying Derek like his next great project.

"I'm a little skilled with magic, as you all know."

Scott snorted in amusement.

"Yeah if a botched attempt with some mountain ash counts," he interjected.

"Do not try me! I also used a Ouija board one time when the sacrifices were happening."

"Oh that's an achievment," Scott retorted snarkily.

"You laugh," Stiles told him. "I've been itching to try some spellwork again actually."

They all noticed that Stiles looked thoughtful again, and the teen remained silent for awhile.

"Right," the boy said finally, turning back to Derek. "You come home with me. We'll need to stop at the store for some ingredients."

"What are you now?" Derek replied with amusement. "The pack wizard?"

"You'll be thanking my ass if this works," Stiles reminded him. "I daresay you'll be indebted, but I'm sure you'll think of something."

Something about Stiles's amusement made Derek want to laugh, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Guess I'm staying over?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure the sheriff will love this turn of events."

"Guess he will," Stiles agreed, managing to mask his sudden anxiety somehow.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Sheriff Stilinski shot a skeptical glance to Stiles, then to teenage Derek, then back to Stiles. He shuddered with a groan and buried his face in his hands.

"Why!?" the older man lamented. "For God's sake- why me?"

"Is that a yes?" Stiles suggested hopefully.

The sheriff eyed him like he was looking at some alien, rather than his own son.

"I guess," John Stilinski sighed with a defeated scowl. "I suppose we can't have... "

The sheriff gave Derek another one over.

"... a teenager, staying by himself," he finished.

"You're the best," Stiles said with a grin. "Come on Derek."

Derek tried his best not to show any irritation as the boy literally pulled him toward the stairs. The sheriff was being nice by having him here.

"Why'd you make it sound like I wanted to stay forever!?" Derek hissed in a whisper once they were in the upstairs hall.

"Well you must admit Derek- a teenager staying in a loft by themselves might raise a few eyebrows."

Derek groaned, but he didn't argue. Stiles would have to win this one. It was either here or Scott's, and Derek very much doubted if the young alpha would be overly thrilled to have him.

"Right, so let's get to it."

Stiles threw the grocery bag on his bed and plopped down without grace, beginning to sort through the materials.

"Oh no," Derek groaned at the sight of a small vial full of the telltale black powder.

"Relax Sourwolf," Stiles told him, pulling out a packet with purple grains that looked suspiciously like wolfsbane. "I won't actually touch you with any of it."

Derek raised a skeptical eyebrow, but the boy merely glanced back mischeviously like old Stiles before the Nogitsune incident.

He jerked Derek's arm again, positining him in the center of his bedroom.

"Uh... "

"Just stay there," Stiles ordered, unstoppering the vial of mountain ash. "We're going to try a few things."

He began emptying the vial around Derek in a circle.

"Stiles I swear to God, if you're thinking of trapping me!"

"I'm not that mean," Stiles muttered, but he couldn't keep the amused smirk from popping up. "Right then... "

The teen surveyed his work. It appeared the circle had no open places.

"Right," he muttered to himself. "What did Deaton say? Its faith, not words... "

Stiles twitched a little in that nervous way of his when he worried about goofing something up. He focused on the circle of ash, biting at his bottom lip as he willed with all his might for this to work.

"Resume your true form!" Stiles commanded, throwing his hands out dramatically.

Nothing happened...

"Stiles," Derek growled irritably.

"It will work," Stiles assured him matter-of-factly. "The ash alone probably isn't enough."

He began sprinkling the wolfsbane around the ash, forming a second circle. Derek hissed at the nearness to the substance.

"Just relax Derek. Right- resume your proper form!"

There was an earth-shaking peal of thunder, and the wolfsbane scattered like a gust of wind had swept through the room. Stiles shielded his eyes, waiting for the purple cloud to clear. Derek was hacking violently, breathing becoming strained.

The boy finally moved his hand away... it hadn't worked- Derek was still a teenager.

"No," the boy said. "You heard the thunder. That should have worked."

"You can't remove it," Derek snapped in irritation. "Meaning Deaton probably can't either. Only that old witch can."

"I hate to say this Derek, but... you might be a teenager for a long time."

"Well don't just stand there Genim! Remove the damn mountain ash!"

Stiles jumped with nerves.

"Right," he said, running his fingers through his hair quickly.

The other teen stepped forward and bent down, focusing power into his hand before sweeping some of the ash aside. A subtle hint of a breeze indicated the circle had broken.

Derek stepped forward, but noticed Stiles was still knelt down, staring at the floor.

"Stiles," Derek spoke carefully.

"It should have worked," Stiles huffed, hitting the carpet with his fist. "This is all my fault. Everything is... "

Part of Derek wanted to agree, but the other part knew Stiles wouldn't have had him cursed on purpose. The old fortuneteller had misled him.

"No it isn't," Derek assured him in a low voice. "Come on Stiles- get up."

He helped pull the other boy up with his hand. Once the brunette was on his feet their hands remained in place for mere seconds, but the moment seemed to drag out.

Those gentle whiskey eyes remained on his, Stiles finally letting his hand go. Derek fought down the hint of bile rising in his throat, but not from disgust- from hesitation and confusion.

This wasn't the first time Stiles had evoked that weird feeling in him lately, like something between them had shifted.

Stiles held his gaze, and Derek saw the fear and hesitation mirrored there.

"So uh," Stiles said, breaking the silence. "You wanna go somewhere?"

"Like where?" Derek asked curiously.

"Your loft?"

Why would Stiles want to go there?

"I know you and my dad aren't best buddies," the teen said by way of explaination.

"Understatement of the century," Derek smirked.

"I'll cook dinner for us too," Stiles said, knowing that would seal it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The loft was filled with the overpowering smell of onions and bellpeppers sizzling away in a pan. Stiles hummed to himself as he stired the noodles and pasta sauce. Derek knew cooking was one of the things he liked best, and it was certainly one of the boy's talents.

"Dinner soon," Stiles promised, turning to give him a wide smile.

"Good," Derek said. "Think I'll just excuse myself then- shall I?"

He made his way to the bathroom, pausing to look at his reflection in the mirror. He could still hardly believe it wasn't the face that had greeted him just this morning.

The face was familiar, but long behind him. His teenage self hadn't yet filled out completely, but the eyes and lopsided grin were still pretty much the same. It would take him some time to get used to this.

For some reason he also briefly pondered that he and Stiles were about the same age now. Stiles was actually just a little older in Derek's present state.

Derek had often wondered about this when he'd gotten those weird feelings and thoughts for Stiles. What if he were younger? What if pursuing more than friendship weren't technically illegal? Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

His mind suddenly recalled the woman's curse- his hesitance to love, secrets he kept hidden.

He already knew Stiles had his own secrets as well. Really, the hyper teen probably kept too much to himself, to the point of attracting a Nogitsune. Weren't he and Stiles alike in that very thing? If he weren't a werewolf he didn't doubt the trickster spirit might have gone for him.

"Yo Der!"

Dinner was ready. Derek was impressed as ever by the spread on the table. He certainly didn't deny Stiles' cooking abilities.

He knew that after Claudia's death, Stiles had learned to cook because he didn't want his dad eating unhealthy fast food all the time. Claudia... whom everyone said Stiles so took after.

Derek knew the boy wouldn't likely want to discuss it, but it kept eating away at him as he played with his spaghetti. Finally he had to say something.

"Stiles, what was your mother like?"

Stiles eyed him in surprise and shock.

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry," Derek blurted quickly. "I know you don't like to talk about her."

"No it isn't that," Stiles said. "I just don't think many people would understand. Why do you want to know?"

As Derek suspected, Stiles now seemed guarded and distrusting.

"Well everyone says you're a lot like her," he pointed out.

"No," Stiles denied quietly. "I don't think I am. She was a nice person Derek, a good person."

"Stiles I keep telling you, what you weren't in control of doesn't make you a bad person."

"I'm still not a good person," Stiles argued. "Think about it. I'm sarcastic, snide, crude, and I think about only myself."

Derek shook his head.

"Everyone looks out for themselves Stiles!"

"Not the way I do," the boy shot back. "I think I'm just entitled to have everything I want! Think about the way I go after Lydia, after Malia, after... "

Stiles stopped himself, cutting off with a frown.

"Its okay Stiles," Derek tried to assure him. "That part of you is okay."

Stiles gave him a withering look.

"Do you have the slightest idea what that's like Derek!? To go to school everyday and hear people make cracks at it, even your best friend. To hear your best friend, your brother make cracks at people who are... "

"I don't suppose my acceptance would matter," Derek spat, tired of listening to the teen's whining and self-pity.

"Huh?" Stiles asked in confusion.

"When have you ever heard me take shots at anybody for it?" Derek demanded, eying him like daring him. "That's what teenagers do Stiles! They say stupid crap. Then they grow up and they realize you have to take life as it is. Why continue to hide it?"

Stiles looked at him, and suddenly he looked vulnerable, like he was ready to break.

"What if everyone hates me?" Stiles whispered, lips trembling with fear. "What if even Scott hates me?"

"Scott doesn't hate Ethan," Derek pointed out.

"That's different! Ethan isn't someone he's known forever. He tolerates Ethan."

"Stiles do you really believe what you're saying right now? Think, you know Scott. He's one of the nicest guys there is. You're lying again- to yourself."

"I don't know what to do Derek," Stiles sobbed, burying his face in his hands. "I hate myself. I hate everything that's happened! I just... "

Stiles didn't protest when Derek crossed the room, carefully placing that hand on his shoulder, just like he'd once done for him. Stiles inhaled through a choking sob and threw his arms around Derek. Derek let him. Stiles had been through more than some grown people ever go through.

"Its okay Stiles," Derek reassured him gently, carefully stroking the back of his head. "I promise it is. Its okay to like guys too."

Stiles exhaled loudly, but he didn't let go.

"Stop blaming yourself," Derek said. "Don't lose yourself again. Don't let him have the power. I don't know what I'd do... "

Stiles looked up at him, eyes still moist from crying, but no longer upset.

"What do you mean?" he asked, once again seeming vulnerable.

"I can't lose you again," Derek whispered shakily, fingers still stroking through Stiles' hair. "You have no idea what it did to me, watching that monster control you, thinking you were gone. I realized I didn't despise you. I lied too."

"Why Derek?" Stiles asked gently, raising a hesitant hand to his face.

"Because of what you make me feel," Derek choked like the words were painful, but the other teen knew this was the most open he'd ever been. "I was drawn to you almost immediately Stiles. Only one other person has ever... "

Derek hesitated, but Stiles didn't want the walls to go back up- not yet.

"Paige."

"Yes," Derek sighed with a shudder. "When I was just this age now. I was drawn to her for who she was. There was nothing sexual or possessive about it. That's how it is for you Stiles. Its just who you are."

"What are you saying Derek?"

"I'm saying... "

Derek looked deeply into those whiskey eyes. He'd become lost in them, and there was no pulling back now. Maybe he didn't want to.

"You're more than just a friend to me Stiles. I know this is... love. I love you... "

Stiles inhaled at the words, feeling both want and fear. There was recognition. He recognized what Derek was saying because he'd also felt it.

His mind flashed back to so many things- that day they'd first locked eyes at the preserve, holding the older Derek up at that pool, slapping and punching in an attempt to bring him around in that elevator.

"I love you too," Stiles whispered, trembling with the confession. "Derek!"

Derek seemed to study him for several moments. There was a certain state of absorbing the confessions, and it seemed like a long silence, difficult to break. Stiles found his eyes moving lower, taking in the other teen's lips, and he wanted to know.

Somehow they seemed to find their way to each other almost at exactly at the same time. Derek moved forward to meet him, their lips connecting like long-parted mates united, like longing and soul.

Derek inhaled and his lips quickened. He held Stiles closer, thinking of how right this was, how real and unshakable. He'd thought about this, but now it was his sixteen year old self finding love again, finding it in the most unexpected place- in the arms of another boy.

It didn't matter. Gender didn't matter. It was everything about Stiles- body and soul, like coming home to his mate at last!

He never wanted to let go. Stiles didn't want to let go...


End file.
